Mass Effect: The Cyrus Chronicles
by Kabal91
Summary: Meet Cyrus CJ Jeromi. Gunnery Sarge. Alliance Military. Friend of Commander Shepard. Survivor of Mindoir. As John Shepard hunts Saren down, many more brave soldiers help behind the scenes of the main battles to stop him and aid John. Cyrus is one of them.
1. I: Introduction

**Mass Effect: Chronicles.**

**Prologue.**

**I- Introduction.**

**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0200 hours. Mindoir local time: 2:27am.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Mindoir, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

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Cyrus "CJ" Jeromi, a young boy turned young adult not 2 days ago, worked hard at mining the thorium and cobalt deposits which he was assigned to extract by his boss, Mr. Ramos. He and the other miners had hit the jackpot the last couple of days, finding many of the deposits in the Irane region. The discovery came at the most opportune time, as the last of their previously discovered resources were running dry, which meant no income for all of them, and no income for the Mindoir goverment to expand and develop further. The local goverment was a bit hazy on letting the miners extract the stuff, but they really didn't have much options for credits. It was a young world, only in the last few years was it deemed habitable and was colonized. Not exactly the best naturally habitable planet, but it was good enough for the people here. Just a quiet, backwater planet in the Attican Traverse. However, there was still much to do.

If only it was ever given the opportunity.

Pushing aside his physical exhaustion, CJ continued to work hard. For an newly turned sixteen year old, Cyrus was above average in physical prowess and condition then the average teen. He had a hard and busy life as a child and a teen, working with his dad, mostly jobs to do with raw strength and muscle. Despite his physical advantages he actually enjoyed less physical suggesting activities much more, such as reading, socializing, and history. Even about the other alien races sharing the galatica with them, which was rare as most people didn't bother or care. He read all about the Krogans, the Rebellions and Genophage; The First Contact War with the Turians, The Asari and their beautiful culture, the Quarians and their exile from their homeplanet. He was just one of those guys who loved to do everything. His mother and father were of mixed multicultural heritage, as most humans these days were, but his African background showed above all. His skin was a nice dark brown and his hair naturally a messy fro, but he kept it shaved, and he had big brown eyes which were very hard to read. He stood at 5'8, the average for most humans. To another human or perhaps Asari, he was confident he was attractive to the opposite gender. And race.

Well, in a rough, manly, weird sort of way. Puberty was still working wonders.

It was well past midnight; Cyrus and his workmates and friends had been mining for hours, determined and encouraged, but exhausted. Of course, there was a catch for these new found mineral banks; they were well beyond the designated "safe zones". That is, the explored regions of Mindoir which the local goverment consider safe and appropriate to stay within. He didn't see what the whole fuss was about, as there were no readings or successful scans of other organic life before the humans colonized, but then again they couldn't be too careful. Ever since the humans expanded beyond their solar system in the Galactic, every alien species has give them some kind of crap, they wouldn't give them a break. The First Contact War with the Turians, the Batarian pirates and slavers attacking human ships all over the Traverse... what did they need to do to colonize peacefully just as the rest of the galaxies life did? It just didn't make sense to most. Especially to Cyrus.

For now, however, he brushed those thoughts aside for another time; he wanted to be focused on finishing the job here.

He wiped the heavy amounts of sweat off his brow and forehead. After a couple of more minutes he finally gave in to his bodies screaming protests to take a quick break. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he clumsily sat and fell against the rocky wall behind him, taking a quick breather. He was exhausted. Around him the others followed suit too. No need to speak; they all needed a damn break.

"John... you mind passing over some water? Freakin' dehydrated here," Cyrus said with a raspy voice, pointing to the water crate next to his good friend.

John nodded and grabbed a canteen, throwing it to Cyrus, giving a laugh at his friends desperation for water. "Someones exhausted."

Cyrus had always been a social person; when he first came with his family to Mindoir with the 700 other colonists, he made sure to befriend or get to know nearly every single one of them. Especially his work mates. They were a colorful and interesting mix of personalities, but many just didn't have much history. Roger Vaughn and his brother Lee were two guys just trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of Earth; Roger was the tough, straightforward, intimidating guy while Lee was the loud-mouthed but more logical brother. Annabelle was the only girl of his mining group but she made sure she let everyone know she wouldn't take crap. She was just as tough, strong, violent and rough as any of them were, so the guys made sure not to mess with her. Ian was a orphan who was brought to Mindoir to be taken care of by his new foster parents.

There were many more, but the stories were the same. They were all either homeless, wanderers, explorers, or disgraced criminals determined to attone for their sins in the quiet life.

But John Shepard and his parents definitely were the most interesting, but at the same time mysterious. They didn't fit in with all the rest of the parents and families. They saw action. The Shepard's had a name in the galaxy. John's parents were Alliance soldiers whom had retired after the hard life; they both fought the Turians in the First Contact War and saved many civilians from the Shanxi bombardment and occupation. They were heroes. They must have met and fell in love soon after, because John was born on a spaceship not long afterwards, seeing the stars and planets as a child and travelling various systems before ending up on this quiet backwater planet 2 years ago. Cyrus would have loved to have the same, despite John saying they had it good on Mindoir. Cyrus was just some kid from Earth who went to Mindoir with his rather boring, but providing, parents.

Cyrus sloshed around the contents of the canteen before drinking more than half of water in one go.

"Well of course you would be, if you hadn't had a decent shower in three days... or a proper good nights sleep."

"I was kidding, CJ. We all look a mess."

"Not you. You aren't even breaking a sweat."

"Yeah I am."

"No, you're not... Anyways I say we just go back now. Ramos is overworking us, he won't mind if we have a break."

"We're close man, very close. We'll finish up in an hour, I promise. I'm sure we'll finish extracting this stuff by then, and report back to Mr. Ramos. Alright everybody? Then we'll get back to town, rest, and celebrate."

CJ sighed, and finished his water. "Sometimes I'm embarrassed on how little John, the twig stick, managed to outgrow and outstrong me."

John just grinned. "Whats that got to do with anything?"

"Nothin' man, nothin'." Cyrus slowly got up with the aid of Lee. Roger slowly got back up from his resting position as well with a grunt. "Well, its only an hour. Lets get this over and done with. Stop bitching CJ."

"I wasn't."

"Thats what you always say."

"Shut up."

Then they all started again. The hour seemed to go on forever to Cyrus, and his physique and energy was pushed to it's limits. But finally John called it a night, well, early morning, and they collected their stuff and left the site.

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3am on Minodir wasn't quite like on Earth, but it was close enough, however the hell the sun in this starsystem worked. The nightsky was full of all those distant and mysterious stars and planets. Cyrus always had the desire to maybe one day explore out there. Make a name for the Jeromi's or something. But that wouldn't be for a while, that was for sure.

He walked alongside Roger and Lee, whom bickered about the usual crap and how out here was just wasteland save for the minerals. John lead the group at the front, quiet as usual. They were the only people- the 17 of them- that were allowed out of the safe zone legally. Again, Cyrus was confident there was nothing dangerous out here with them, but he was sure some of his peers were much more paranoid. He couldn't blame them of course, but still.

"I just think Mr. Thomas should just be a bit more... less tight," Lee finally stated. "There ain't no dangers out here anyways. We need more hands to help up with the mining."

"He's just trying to make sure we're safe, y'know." John replied from the front.

"I know, I understand... just-"

"Just what?" Cyrus interrupted. "We hear you complain about the same stuff everyday Lee, I think we all know by now your damn point."

The topic quickly changed. Warren spoke up. "Anyone hear about the attack on Qwell?"

"Yeah. Heard the planet was crushed pretty bad last week. Chen told me the details when I was over at the Xion building. I mean, if a heavily fortified colony like that got wiped easy, what makes us so safe then?"

"Chen's full of crap," Ian said bluntly.

"Mindor is very far from the Attican Beta. We're fine. Stop worrying, bunch of idiots, I swear." Anabelle said, butting in, giving her usual straightforward opinion and insults.

"Let the Alliance worry about that shit man," Nick replied. "Lets just worry about getting home. They won't even bother coming down to nowhere anyways."

"Yeah," Roger grunted. "All we got of worth around here is the thorium and Anabelle's hot sister."

Most laughed save for John, who continued to walk ahead quietly. Anabelle went red.

"Oh shut the hell u-"

Anabelle didn't get to finish his sentence, however, as the next thing the group hears isn't the sound of her smacking Roger, but the sound of a ship fast approaching. Cyrus turned himself around. The night sky rippled as a ship broke through atmosphere and was heading straight their way. Fast. From what Cyrus could see as it flew over them hard, it was definitely not Alliance, as the outer design was rough, shaped weirdly... different design. John yelled over the noise for everyone to duck as it passed over, and the guys did so.

Cyrus looked through squinted eyes as the wind hit them to where the ship was headed- the town. Then another ship came from another direction, and followed in pursuit over the first. And another. Then...

Explosion.

It took a few seconds to register, but it finally hit him.

They were under attack.


	2. II: Chaos

**Prologue- II**

**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0300 hours. Mindoir local time: 3:43am.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Mindoir, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

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"Holy shit!" Anabelle screamed over the combined noise of the ships above them, the explosions, and the shocked verbal responses from the rest of the group.

"Oh my god... oh my god, this can't be happening..." Lee screamed.

"We're under freaking attack!"

Cyrus, John and the group watched in horror as the first and biggest ship, what seemed to be the flagship, fired missles at the Xion department building- the only military/police force on this planet, and the only real threat. The building was vaporised by the dozens of explosive projectiles, and ceased to exist under the force. The surrounding area also crumbled. The second of the three ships landed not far from them at the edge of town, and from this distance the group could see dozens of figures exiting the ramp and heading to the town. Gunfire began to echo into their ears. Explosions.

The third ship landed on the far side of town, and dispatched it's ground troops.

For the first time in his life, Cyrus was scared.

He had seen and experienced his fair share of trauma back at Earth. He heard all the horrible stories and wars. He read all that stuff. But now it was happening here, at his home.

"Oh god... mum... dad..." He whispered to himself.

Without thinking he ran. Ran down the rocky hill towards town, as fast as he could. It was stupid, illogical, idiotic, every other word in the book, but he just didn't think. His loved ones and home was under attack, and he needed to help.

But he had to be alive to do anything. John came running after him, much faster then Cyrus, and tackled him to the ground. CJ protested and tried to break free and get back up, but John held him down.

"Don't... be... stupid! CJ!" John yelled at him as he struggled to keep him down.

"Get-off-ME!"

"You can't just-_STOP_!"

John firmly grabbed Cyrus by the collar and shoved him down.

"What the HELL do we do then John?!" Cyrus screamed back, still wrestling with him to get free. "We're under attack! We need to help!"

"Of course we need to help! But running straight in without thinking will get you killed! And what will that achieve?! We need to stick together! Just WAIT!"

Cyrus stopped struggling at this point, calming down. Panting and recovering for a few seconds, the rest of the group came running to their position.

"Damnit! What are you-"

Ian was drowned out over Anabelle's louder voice. "What the _hell_ you think you're doing, running off like a complete idiot CJ?!" When she got close enough, she slapped Cyrus across the face.

CJ took the blow, ignoring the pain. "...So what do you propose we do, John?"

John let go of Cyrus at that point, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"John?"

He exhaled.

It took him a while to answer, because even for John Shepard and his military upbringing and teachings from his parents he was stumped. How could a bunch of fifteen-eighteen year olds armed with a couple of obselete pistols do to stop this kind of attack?

"Well..." he began. "We have to look at the situation as it is. We all saw those ships come in. We all saw what they're capable of, and we got a glimpse of how much force they've got. It would be suicide to try and fight back blindly."

He continued. "They attacked the Xion department right when they got here. So these guys must have been planning this for a while; how else would they know where our police force was posted and coming from? We're not dealing with a couple of crazies. These guys must be mercs or slavers."

Ian gulped. Lee looked around their surroundings with frightened eyes.

"No shit." Roger said bluntly, looking the least bit worried. But even tough guy Vaughn couldn't hide his fear.

"We have two advantages," John continued. "They don't know of us... yet. And we have the element of surprise."

Roger snorted. Lee laughed sarcastically. Cyrus spoke up; "What are _we_ gonna do against a force like that?"

"Like I said CJ, it would be suicide to run in there and shoot. We gotta think and re-think every move. We have to get a signal out. There's gotta be an Alliance patrol out there somewhere. Its the only way. Otherwise... we're goners."

Everybody fell silent for a moment.

"...but... how? They're probably crawling all over town by now." Anabelle spoke up.

"Not yet... it's too early. Those bastards will take their time looting and rounding up everyone. We need to get to the comm tower."

Nick spoke up. "That communications guy... whats his name..."

"Reese?"

"Yes! He showed me around the place a while back. He's got heaps of equipment, not the high-tech stuff, but enough to send out a genuine distress signal. He's got a safe room at the back as well, so chances are he'll be hiding there."

"Yeah, the chicken shit."

John took a moment, then nodded. "We got a plan. Let's go."

Ian laughed hysterically. "You're saying... hahaha! Oh my god... oh my god... we're gonna die..."

Anabelle screamed at Ian. "We just can't sit around Ian! People's lives are at stake!"

"So are OURS!"

The group broke into an arguement, each person screaming, yelling or quietly showing their thoughts. Finally Ian got the last word.

"Look, you guys can go in and commit suicide, but I'm gonna go back to the mine and wait this thing out! _SCREW_ THIS!"

John opened his mouth to speak again, but got cut off. A energy bolt was fired straight at the group; it hit Ian square in the face, burning it away. He fell back to the floor, dead. Smoldering.

A split second later, more shots were fired. A ship, a smaller one then the first three, flew over them, and out dropped a dozen figures. Anabelle screamed. Lee, Warren and Wolfgang were the fastest to react; they bolted the opposite direction. Aaron tried to do the same but got shot down. Another energy bolt was fired at the group, then another... both found targets in Kurt, who didn't even have time to scream. The rest of the confused and shocked group began to react, screaming and running.

John again was the one who rallied and got some of them thinking.

"EVERYBODY DUCK! GET BACK, THIS WAY!" John yelled as he grabbed his standard issue sidearm. "ANYONE WHO'S GOT A WEAPON, FIRE! Keep them BACK!"

Cyrus got his mind and body working and got up, grabbing his side arm which he always brought, just in case, and fired back at the unknown attackers. John, Roger, Jet and Zane also reacted accordingly and fired back, the only others holstering sidearms in the group.

None of the boys first shots met a target. A tall, human-like shadowly figure gained some ground and got closer, as did a bigger, more monsterous looking one followed suit. They fired their guns and hit Joshua, who was closest by. Josh screamed a horrible scream, bleeding heavily. Nick tried to pull his friend back, but was gunned down too.

In 2 minutes they had lost five of their friends.

John yelled over the noise of his pistol as he fired; "Suppressive fire! We gotta hold them back for the others to get away! Use the rocks as cover!"

Cyrus, Zane and Roger did as he said, firing while taking cover behind anything they could hide behind. It all just happened so fast and at the spur of the moment. It was damn crazy. None of them had ever fired a gun at a live target! A threat!

The lead figure yelled something to his comrade, then moved even closer, firing more accurate, deadly shots then them. One energy bolt narrowly missed Zane.

"Shit!" He yelled, and moved backwards to dodge the shot. He tripped over the body of Kurt, and Zane screamed as he fell on something hard- a hard rock. His pistol was overheated, and he couldn't get up. The big figure threw a grenade and the last thing Cyrus saw of Zane was his face and his expression; his eyes were full of pain, shock and utter fear. He screamed once more, then the grenade went off, vaporizing him and sending molten rock and dirt everywhere.

Jet yelled in anger over his fallen friend, and fired wildly at the lead opposition. The bigger one ran towards him before he reached his comrade, grabbing Jet, lifting him up and shooting him through the chest, sending him backwards from the force of his shotgun. There was enough light to see now from where Cyrus was shooting, that it was a Krogan.

He had read up all about them; the Genophage, their warrior-like status and methods, their biology, their brutality... and it looked _much_ more tougher then the holo-vids. The Krogan wore full silver body armour with spikes protruding all over his back and arms. It turned to the remaining three boys and growled; the look it gave them was enough to strike fear into even the toughest of soldiers. And they were just damn kids. It took off it's matching helmet and showed its face; a horrible twist of reptillian and alien proportions. It had scars all over and it's teeth were as sharp as his armour spikes. The Krogan ran beserk towards them, screaming for their blood.

CJ fired at the incoming threat. One of his rounds hit it's shoulder and penetrated the shielding, but the alien shrugged it off and kept running, unphazed. Roger scored some shots too through the shield, but every bullet that hit seemed to make the Krogan more faster, and more determined to rip them to pieces. Green blood splattered, but it kept coming.

It was only a couple of steps away from Cyrus now; the Krogan raised it's rifle, and roared. CJ closed his eyes and braced for the inevitable.

Gunshot.

After the inevitable didn't happen for more then 10 seconds, Cyrus opened his eyes. The Krogan lay dead next to him. Nearby John held his gun, smoking from being overcharged. He ran to CJ and picked him up.

"We gotta go now! ROGER, Back here!"

Roger acknowledged, and the three bolted as fast as they could down the rocky terrain and towards the town. They had to get that message out, even if they died in the process. Or at least try and escape, try and save some lives.

As they ran Cyrus looked over at John, who didn't look at all frightened. He had the look of determination on him. What CJ and Roger saw back there was something they didn't expect; but definitely something they needed. He was a leader. Without him they probably all would be dead by now.

Shepard spoke up. "The comm tower should be near. We're close."

"What about the others?" Roger protested.

"We'll have to pray they got away!" Cyrus yelled back.

More plasma bolts and various projectiles were fired at them from behind. More opposition.

Adrenaline was rushing all through-out Cyrus'. His heart was beating fast, his emotions were running wild, and the one thought was running through his head; survival.

The three picked up the pace and ran faster.

It was life or death.

The three of them weren't the strongest people; nor were they the fastest, smartest, or experienced; but they would prove to be the luckiest.

They were survivors.


	3. III: Invasion

**Prologue- III**

**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0510 hours. Mindoir local time: 5:10am.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Mindoir, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

**S.O.S/Looping Distress Signal: Mindoir Colony is under attack. Any Systems Alliance Ships out there, please, respond. Follow attached co-ordinates to the Serpent Relay to Antaeus Star System, Mindoir Colony. Repeat, we are under attack by unknown heavy forces, and need assistance. Someone, anyone.**

**Please. Help.**

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The streets of Mindoir's town were in chaos. The heavily armed and superior enemy force crushed whatever police force of the Mindoir/Xion Security Team was left, as well as any colonist who tried to fight back with whatever conventional weapon they could get. Fires burned and cackled, missiles filled the air and hit buildings the colonists worked so hard on, destroying it all as well as the unlucky innocents inside. People were screaming, dying, running, being tied up and forced back to the ships. Most people however were just shot to death. It was the bloodiest, most cruelist and hellish thing Cyrus would ever experience in his life.

CJ just wasn't as emotionally or physically stronger then the other two. Roger was muscle and strong physically, but he kept his wits and logic about him; though through his tough exterior emotions like fear and shock showed well. But he knew he couldn't just run in like Cyrus attempted to do before. John's parents grew up military so there was no doubt he did too; he was born and bred as a soldier, a spacer. He was always stronger then the rest, both physically and mentally. Calm, collected, logical, and charistmatic. He made friends easy and alot of the miners followed his suggestions, orders and opinions without backchat. He was a good leader.

Thats why Cyrus' cons came out so much more then they should have. He felt useless compared to the two, like a liability, and he felt extremely stupid when he tried to run in suicidally. His friends were dead, dying or about to die because of his actions. Kurt, Nick, Aaron, Zane, Jet... And all the others who he didn't even know were dead or alive anymore. The guilt all weighed on his shoulders. He couldn't control his emotions very well, and aggression and illogic definitely took over him more than anything else. He couldn't keep himself from completely going crazy, and only with the leadership of Shepard he was sure he would make it out. To keep going.

The trio had gotten back to the city in time before the enemy dropship deployed more of their men- and then the strafing happened. Anyone unlucky enough to get in the dropship's sights was blasted to hell with it's laser weaponry and missles. The confusion and chaos around the town was the only thing keeping them alive; most of the enemy was too busy dealing with everyone else to notice the three kids sneak into a partially collapsed comm building. Shepard entered last, and locked the door behind him. Wouldn't do much, but it'd give them an extra second or two to get ready if they were attacked.

Cyrus was probably the worst out of the three in holding his emotions back. The death and torture was too much to bear for him; and he was alive because of dumb luck.

John was speaking, but Cyrus was not concentrating. He was lost in his emotions. After yelling at nothing in particular, he began to punch and kick wildly at anything and everything he came across, his knuckles bleeding and sore after breaking some glass.

"Son of a _BITCH!_" he muttered in pain. After a moment the pain settled and he came back to his senses.

"I'm... sorry. I'm..." Cyrus finally managed to speak out. His eyes were full of tears- not just from the pain.

Roger looked back at him with slight sympathy, some expression which wasn't seen often in him. John closed his eyes and took a moment to breath deeply before speaking.

"It's not any of our faults... we have to deal with the matter at hand. We'll get back at them, I promise." Shepard walked into the next room of the tower, was silent for a moment, then came back with a grim look on his face.

Cyrus looked at John curiously. "Whats wrong?"

John closed his eyes, and pointed to the dead bodies lying in the next room, as well as one badly wounded man leaning against the wall. He definitely was not one of their's; he had professional Eltross II Mercenary Armour on, the best of the best on the black market. He was bleeding quite grotesquely and his shields were fluttering on and off, damaged from combat. His head and body looked a bit odd to the group. He was holding his side and a gun was not present. He was no threat.

John however took no chances, checking the merc. "You move in the slightest way and we will finish you off."

The mysterious man just gurgled green blood, laughing.

On the floor was sprawled five people; two of them the trio reckonized as Warren and Wolfgang. CJ closed his eyes as the sight of all the blood and gore that filled the room was just too much for him to bear. Roger stood by the doorway, gun ready just in case of unwanted guests but he too couldn't hide his shock. Warren's body smelt like cooked flesh- full of signs of energy bolts. He was burned badly by the damage. His expression on his face showed some evidence that he was taken by surprise. John kneeled next to his friend and closed his eyelids, as a sign of respect. Warren was always a good guy; he was the eldest and acted like a big brother to most of the miner group. Good spirited, always cheerful and optimistic, it saddened John, Cyrus and Roger to see him dead after all he worked on to gain his respect on Mindoir after a hard life. Dead. Like this. Wolfgang's face was completely blasted off, however, and the only reason they knew it was him was the dogtags around his neck of his late father that he always wore. He was always the quiet and reserved one of the group and only Nick really knew him well, and with Nick dead now no-one was left to pass his stories on. All the trio knew of him was his name and his father. It was depressing.

The other three bodies all over the cold floor were unknown to the group, but again they knew they weren't their's. All heavily armoured, all wielding much higher-tech and powerful weaponry then the colonists had at their arsenal. Two of them were Krogan monstrosities, which was surprising to see.

"Couple of our colonists took out Krogans?" Cyrus said is awe as he examined the bodies of the fallen. "We must be better than we thought, or they're just stupider then we think."

Their weapons were missing. So that testified to at least one person being left alive after the skirmish.

The third was a Batarian; it's physical structure (it's four freaky, inner set of yellow eyes), gave away it's race, and suddenly the group had some information on who was in this attack; Batarians and Krogans. There were heaps of slaver/gang groups in the Attican Traverse and Terminus Systems being paid by unknown sources recently to attack human colonies; this attack was paid and planned by somebody on the outside for a while now.

It was as if the trio were all thinking the same thing at the same time, because they all turned to the wounded man bleeding against the wall.

Cyrus got to him first. He walked straight up with a determination to beat information out of him. Upon closer inspection, the man was actually another Batarian; his grey skin, sickly green blood, two slits for a nose and two extra eyes testified to that. The alien brought up his arms to brace for the attack; it was a futile attempt however. Cyrus threw hard blows at the defenseless creature, striking through his arms to his face, making the merc bleed and scream more. John and Roger quickly grabbed CJ and pulled him away from the wounded Batarian.

"Cyrus, calm the HELL down or I will beat you to a pulp as well!" Roger bellowed as he threw him to the cold metal floor behind them.

CJ just glared at the two, his emotions running wild once more. "Son of a bitch... I hate this shit."

John looked at CJ seriously. "We need him _alive _to gain anything." He turned to the Merc, who was now looking worse then ever. John kneeled next to him, staring into his eyes with the most piercing, serious stare a man could give.

"We have questions. And we need answers. Might as well start talking; you're not going anywhere, after all."

Roger followed up. "Thats for sure."

The man looked up at the three boys for a while, just staring at each of them, not saying a thing. Blood rushed from his stomach and eye wounds and his mouth, but he seemed to have calmed down and controlled his breathing. After a minute Roger lost his temper. "Hey, dumbass. You hear us or is your alien peanut sized brain too fucked up to talk? Just squeal if you are. We'll leave then."

That line got a reaction. The alien began to laugh; first just a small one, then hysterically, coughing blood everywhere in between.

Translation in their standard issue brain implants followed closely after it's speech. "That was funny, kid... really, it gave me a good laugh... You three are damn lucky to have got this far... I'm assuming these two young organics here were your friends?" He pointed to Warren and Wolfgang's bodies, and laughed a chilling alien laugh.

Then, in a whisper... "I saw them before they died you know. I was right in front of them. Oh... how they put up a fight. They killed my comrades, surprisingly. You humans are full of surprises. That other little meatbag got me in the freakin' back... got away too, but haha. I got these two in the end. Your friends begged to me for mercy. Like little Varrens. On the floor. Hopeless, and pathetic. How do you feel about that?"

It took all the mental strength and willpower in the world for Roger and Cyrus not to kill him there and then, but they knew they couldn't touch him. They needed every little bit of info they could get, and assuming they made it out of here alive, use it to stop future attacks. To stop the killings of innocents. John kept his calm, but even he could not prevent his emotions from coming through. "You bastard. Don't you dare talk about our friends like that!"

The Batarian screeched a horrible sound, it's wounded eye protruding blood everywhere. The three boy's ears rang. "You STUPID humans! Your insignificant lives will be ridden from our galaxy in a few moments! You will all-"

Cyrus spoke up, after being quiet all this time.

"Wow... Still mouthing off huh? Like you're the best of the best when "that "other little shit" ended up sending you to hell. Real good." He looked up at John and Roger with a bit of hope in his eye. "That means one of ours is still alive, thank god."

He turned back to the Batarian and continued, with a more serious tone. "Lets just cut the bullshit. Listen up; who is leading this attack? Why are you attacking Mindoir?"

The alien wasted no time in replying. "My leader, Shiquen, has hired Ymir, a Krogan Warlord and his accomplices, to destroy your colony. To rid humans from _our_ area of the galaxy. You humans think you can just waltz into our systems, colonize whats rightfully ours, and get away with it by being _pets_ to the citadel council? No... my people will not let you. Ymir has already deployed most of his forces ground side, so your lives will cease to exist anyway.

The aliens voice and words turned more serious, more angry, more chilling.

"Your town is going to _burn_ to the ground no matter _what _you pathetic humans try to do to stop us! _All_ your goods and wealth will be ours! All your people _will be slaves and pets_! We will _use_ and _rape_ your beautiful yet helpless women! We will utterly _destroy_ your little planet... and the rest... to rid you from the galaxy."

The alien laughed it's evil laugh one more time. "Just because we can."

Then, before the boys could get anymore information, the Batarian Mercenary felt death take over him, and no more.

The chilling and horrific words of the alien rang in all their ears. Went through all their heads. And many emotions played throughout them.

Anger. Hopelessness. Fear.

John however, had only one.

Determination. To survive. To live.

Cyrus closed his eyes and leant against the metal floor, stuck between no hope, tears, and anger. Roger remained quiet and walked to the front of the building, making sure no-one got through. They left Shepard to do the logic. John searched for the safe room against the metal floor and walls and found a well hidden security code scanner. After rummaging through the rooms various omni tools, computers and comm junk, John managed to hack into one and find a set of codes. After entering the third time, a non-suspicious wall in the corner of the room suddenly revealed itself to be a door, and showed another room. John moved in, and so did CJ after a bit of screaming to his brain to get working, and they found another body along with a Cipher omni-tool and other tech junk.

"Thats Reese..." CJ announced , reckonizing the man on the floor. A piece of paper was in the mans clenched fist. Cyrus grabbed it with some difficulty to not rip it, and read it out; "I'm sorry for being such a coward. I tried to redeem myself as one final act. Hope the signal gets through... may the lord spare me from damnation. Please understand. I was weak. - Reese."

"He commited suicide... heh."

Reese stayed true to his letter- the omni tool revealed a sent/activated distress signal; it was just a general code and it didn't send any details, but someone would get the picture they were in trouble.

John and CJ walked back into the main room. "It's already done."

Roger closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled, and leaned against the wall. "Now what?"

"We try and save whatever lives we can."

_Part III of prologue complete... hope my readers like this so far, I know there's already a multitude of ME stories out there, as well as connection to Shepard stories, but I couldn't help but write my own. Read and review, tell me like you like, dislike, and what I can improve on. Next chapter will conclude the prologue- get a glimpse at another canon ME character's point of view and inclusion in the saving of Mindoir ( a younger version, mind you, hope Bioware doesn't go whack at me for making up some of his story and background), and the next chapter will go to the next timeset in the ME universe for CJ and Shepard._

_Cheers everyone. -Cyrus._


	4. IV: Occupation

**Prologue- IV**

**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0410 hours.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Aboard Alliance Frigate-Class Ship, **_**Gladius**_**, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus. In orbit over planet, Athens. Orbital Space Station, Kazar.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

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X.O. Commander Steven Hackett entered the the bridge of _Gladius_, after being called on over the ships comm system by the pilot, Reggie Waters and the communications officer Sarah Keller, rather urgently and unexpectedly. Hackett only got eight hours of unsatisfying statis sleep from the last mission on Thereem before travelling to Antaeus, Athens for Captain Virlheen to attend an important meeting on the surface. Why Virlheen had a meeting all the way out in Athens, not on Kazar station, Hackett had no idea. But he kept his thoughts to himself, as Virlheen was hot-headed and never liked anyone asking too many questions.

Steven had been working and investigating a big murder case back on planet Thereem for days before words turned to bullets when they found the culprit. The Commander was always counted on by the Captain and he got the mission done with no casualties, and one-hundred percent results. He would recieve a few medals and recognition for his actions, but to Hackett he was just satisfied the human and salarian criminals got to rot in prison, and one more step was made to make the galaxy a safer place. A rare want and trait in the System Alliance Officers these days; one that actually cares about Galactic peace as well as rather only his own races problems first.

Commander Hackett was a man in prime physical state; perfectly chiseled and toned in everyway. He stood at 6'1, a height somewhat intimidating to those below rank to him or others that challenge him in some way. A man of mostly caucasian appearance, there were traces of other heritages (as most humans had these days) in his dark brown eyes which gave a piercing, straightforward stare and his rather deep, gravelly voice which didn't suit his appearance.

Once at the bridge, Steven stopped beside Navigator Jessie Hocus, who was also present at the bridge, looking throughly worried.

"Whats wrong, Hocus?" He asked curiously. The man certainly wore a grim expression which hadn't been spotted by the Commander before.

"Keller... unpause and play the signal."

"Aye aye, sir." Sarah played it back once more, the bridges crew listened to the words of what sounded a desperate man's plea for help.

_"S.O.S.! Mindoir Colony is under attack! Any Systems Alliance Ships out there, please, respond... Follow attached co-ordinates to Serpent Relay to Antaeus Star System, Mindoir Colony. Repeat, we are under attack by unknown heavy-armed and hostile forces, and need assistance! Someone, anyone..._

_Please. Help."_

"It's a looping distress signal. It keeps repeating over and over, to make sure someone out here picks it up." Keller said to the crew.

"Are there any other Alliance ships in the area?" Hackett asked calmly, walking back and forth in the bridge, replaying the words in his head numerous times over again.

"No, sir... scans and sensors picking up nothing, I'm pretty sure we and the _Supernova_ are the only ships with FTL drives and fast enough engines in the system, and the '_Nova _is docked here for repairs.

"Are you sure there is nothing else from our scans?'

"Negative, sir."

All the crew in the bridge turned to Hackett anxious and expectedly. They needed an answer, an order; Captain Virlheen was currently not on-board, so it was up to the X.O.

Still, Steven had to think and re-think his plan of action. The Captain didn't like it when he did things without informing his first. That and he was in an important meeting, so he wouldn't like to be bothered either. Even though Hackett was in command of _Gladius_ at this time, the major decisions still needed Virlheen's approval. But the signal sounded desperate, so there wouldn't be much time if they just stood around and thought about it. If they did by the time they left the station and sped up the engine and FTL drive, the attack might already be won and over. Lose-lose situation, damnit. He had everything to lose.

But he was certain the risk had to be taken. Lives were at stake. Human lives. Virlheen would have to wait till they get back.

He turned to Waters, finally finding words to speak on. "Start the engine, get Engineer Williams to get him and his crew alert. Get Michael to awake the statis pods of the marines. And get any of our soldiers who are awake to get to the armory and suit up. Inform Kazar station staff we're leaving the bay."

Navigator Hocus interrupted. "Sir... I don't mean to question, but shouldn't we contact Virlheen first? He'll have our ass again like he did that time with the _Cora_ accident.

"The Captain has to understand this one. An entire human colony is under attack, so unless he's an extreme heartless bastard which he's not... entirely, he will understand. Get us to Mindoir as fast as you can, Waters."

"Aye aye, sir."

Hackett just hoped the battle wasn't over when they got there.

He hoped they didn't try for nothing.

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**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0630 hours.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Mindoir, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus. On the surface.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

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The sudden jamming and sound of Cyrus's pistol overheating was certainly something he did not want at that moment.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!" CJ cursed repeatedly as he went back behind his cover, a couple of stacked metal crates. Energy bolts and bullets went flying at his position, some whizzing very, very close to his head. Too close for comfort, that was for sure. At that moment Cyrus knew he would get Shepard and Roger back for this. Using him as damn bait... "You're the fastest, CJ!" They both said. He didn't want to do it, but it was needed. The fear and unsure feeling was gone now; all that replaced it was just the want to survive. He had accepted the situation, and aimed to make up for the deaths of his friends with his stupid mistake and try to save some lives. Try and live so that others can be saved. The information- the names they have- could stop future attacks if they made it to the Alliance.

There were too many unknowns and enemies. In the crowded, debris and confusion ridden streets a horrible close quarters combat clash of melee and bullets would kill the trio in a few seconds. They needed to use tactics on this one if they wanted to survive. And save some lives. They got a weak transmission from the comm tower an hour or so back; a few surviving Xion personnel holed up with a couple of survivors in the bar, _Persephone. _The trio knew chances would be higher to survive until help arrived-if at all- if they met up with the others and came to their aid. It gave some sort of hope that others wore holding out.

Another skirmish was underway when they got to the 2nd street, but their allies retreated before they could meet up, turning the bad guys attention to _him. _

Closing his eyes and trying to concentrate, to focus; Cyrus popped out of his cover, aiming at the closest and easiest target; an advancing Krogan mercernary in green battle-clan armour. He turned on overcharge and fired many shots at the alien, hitting and breaking through the shield but again his pistol overcharged before he could do some real damage. The terrible cooldown of this damn pistol was going to be the death of him. The Krogan just chuckled and continued to get closer. One of the main ships CJ saw earlier flew over them, and then suddenly left the atmosphere. Looks like the slavers got enough people for that boat.

Cyrus ducked behind cover as the hail of shots began again, and he only hoped Roger and Shepard were in position right about now.

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John checked and re-checked the rounds and upgrade were installed properly and ready.

He'd only get about two, three shots with this... before they knew where he was. The Reaper Sniper Rifle he scavenged from the corpse of a Xion soldier was badly damaged, and he was sure this model wasn't exactly the best of the best. The rounds were indeed powerful; he saw the soldier take out a few mercs before going down himself; the cooldown meter was too slow, and if he missed...

Well, he couldn't miss.

It was like his mother and father taught him. It wasn't that hard. He had been training in weapons and military life since he was born. It was in his blood. Born and bred.

So why was he so scared? He was the only one of the three who could do it. But he felt the pressure.

Even though he could fire a weapon, kill another alien or human being... he was still a kid. This killing wasn't for him.

He had to survive.

Shepard ran from collapsed window to the next. The building he was in was the remains of some business corporation that set up a while back. Luckily the elevator was still working, otherwise they wouldn't have got the highground- the stairway was completely collapsed. He took a look out of a partially blown wall and saw he was looking right down at the advancing party of slavers that were firing at who he guessed was Cyrus. They were getting closer, damnit.

He kneeled into position, leveled his rifle, looked through the scope and zoomed in on the party.

Who should he go for first... the monstrosity in green armour, or what seemed to be the Batarian leading the group?

It didn't matter. They all deserved to die. He aimed at the head of the Krogan, held his breath... and pulled the trigger.

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His desire was fulfilled. In the nearly half-collapsed building next to them, Cyrus could spot John kneeling and aiming outside the collapsed area of the window with his sniper rifle he scavenged. He fired, and scored a powerful hit on the Krogan Warrior, who's shield was broken through right away with the superior Inferno rounds. One moment the Krogan was running towards CJ; the next he collapsed to the floor, his head blasted off and his pasty, alien cranium and blood all over the dirt floor.

The three allies behind their fallen comrade, two Batarians and another Krogan, searched for where the target was shooting from. That gave Roger his chance, who flanked them earlier, to come from behind with and lay down a supressive fire to confuse the enemy further. One of the Batarian's yelled and the three moved into defensive positions; but they still couldn't hide from John's sniper scope. He fired again on the leading Batarian, who clutched his chest after the rain penetrated his shield and armour, then collapsed. CJ and Roger began moving up, firing wildly knowing of course their pistols weren't strong enough at the range, but that Shepard would finish them off.

They didn't plan on more smoke grenades, though.

The last Batarian and Krogan threw a couple of smoke grenades to obscure all their visions, effectively blocking John from shooting them for a few seconds. With no way to communicate or co-ordinate, CJ stayed put behind an overturned vehicle, squinting to try and see something through the smoke.

Oh he saw something.

Cyrus was seriously pondering whether or not he had some some of smell which attracted Krogans to kill him close up. The last Krogan, who seemed to be identical to his brethren who got his head blown off a few seconds earlier, was looking extremely pissed. He came running at Cyrus, who rolled out of the way as he threw another grenade- an explosive- at the spot he just occupied a few seconds earlier. Dirt, metal and blood flew everywhere. While Cyrus was still on the ground, the alien caught up to him, grabbing still stunned CJ and bashing him hard. He was determined to let CJ die a painful death, no need to make this little shit a slave. Blood flew everywhere, and his vision began to get hazy.

Thankfully, luck was still on his side.

A shotgun round was fired from behind; the Krogan turned around as his first shield was broken through. Another was fired, this time breaking through the next two. The Krogan roared and fired back at the figure whom Cyrus could still not see through the fog; and finally what looked like a fully charged carnage shot was fired at the alien, who blasted him to galactic hell.

CJ crawled up against the vehicle and awaited his saviour... or death. As the smoke cleared he saw four people whom he was very, very glad to see. Suddenly the need to survive just got stronger.

"Oh thank god... CJ!" Anabelle screamed, coming through the fog first, wielding the shotgun. Cyrus couldn't just help but laugh; it hurt like hell though, he was coughing blood.

Peter and Scarlett moved on up and helped them up, while Lee covered them with a rifle. It was such a weird sight, seeing a bunch of adrenaline-filled crazy teens with guns.

"CJ... You the only one left?" Peter asked as he supported him on his arm.

Cyrus coughed a bit more before being able to speak. "No... John and Roger. They're somewhere. We got mixed up with the smoke. Didn't expect them to use that while we were flanking them, the alien bastards. Heh..."

Lee, dripping with sweat and looking filled with anxiety, spoke up. "Roger's alive? Oh thank god! Let's find those two and get back to our spot. It's not safe here!"

Cyrus took a moment to recover, then stood on his own feet. "I'm fine... oh shit!" He unholstered his pistol, ran up to the incoming figure behind the settling dust, and grabbed it, aiming the gun right underneath it's fleshy neck.

"Don't move." He stated simply, clicking off the safety.

"Ah shit, CJ. Get off me." Roger said with disbelief, shoving him aside. John was close behind him, looking relieved to see the rest of the group.

They all suddenly broke into their own conversations and ways of expressing their emotions; but again John rallied them once more.

"We'll have to settle on this stuff later-right now we have to meet up with those other survivors at _Persephone_."

The others just all nodded, knowing their duty and their logic. They all made their way to the bar, hoping to god there was still some hope.

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The Krogan Warlord known by his clan name, "Ymir", stood on the ground beside the loading ramp of his ship, which he amusingly named, _Deathbringer_, making sure all the loot and slaves his men and Shiquen scavenged and caught was secured. Any colonist (they killed all the soldiers to squash any chance of resistance), that dared fight back was shot immedieately. This slaves would make quite some credits for him and his men. Batarians loved humans. Especially their women. Franky Ymir had no idea why, but he didn't question them. They gave the credits, he and his brethren did the fun stuff; killing and pillaging. 

The lines of slaves and goods grew longer. The city wasn't completely under their control yet, as a few pockets of resistance was still holding out. But it was futile, of course. His Krogan would eventually overrun and defeat them, and they'd be long gone before another System Alliance Patrol comes around.

"Ymir, sir?"

Ymir turned to face his second him command, Jax. He was a battle hardened Krogan who didn't take crap from no-one, and Ymir had seen him in combat. An impressive warrior indeed.

"What is it?" Ymir replied back with a grunt.

"We've got a message from Skillian. He's engaging up in orbit with a System Alliance Ship- looks like they've found us. He said it's only one, what the human's classify anyway, frigate, but the Captain seems to have some high-tech weaponry at his arsenal. Goes by the name of, "Commander Hackett". He said he's got a ground crew ready to take on our forces here, and we don't think he's joking. I also don't think Skillian and his crew will hold out long with that rust-bucket of his, he was never the best Captain. What should I tell the squad leaders?"

Ymir sighed. He was a warrior. His men were warriors. They didn't like to back out of a fight so easily. But Shiquen's orders were for them to retreat when trouble hit. They couldn't let the humans know who they were, who they were working for.

"Tell them to retreat back to _Deathbringer_ and _Alessa_, but order them to finish off whatever captured or alive colonists first. I want that whole damn city clean... and just to be sure, we're going to bomb it afterwards."

Jax grinned. "Oh yes, sir. How about myself?"

"You rally half these humans into the ship, then execute the rest. Quickly."

_I know I said this chapter would conclude the Mindoir story... guess not. One more guys, I promise. Got the story already in my head. Read and review please. -Cyrus._


	5. V: Destruction

**Prologue- V**

**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0837 hours.**

**Year: 2170. Location: Aboard Alliance Frigate-Class Ship, **_**Gladius**_**, Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus. In orbit over planet, Mindoir.**

**Status: Engaged in combat.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

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"Power down your FTL drives, disable your ships weaponry and we will not use **lethal force**." X.O. Commander Steven Hackett said firmly and matter-of-factly. He wasn't kidding either, when he replied back to the taunts and challenges sent back and forth through the comm system from the rival ship's Captain.

A second later, a rough, sarcastic laugh came through. "I don't think so, Commander Hackett. It's too late for you to save your pathetic brethren. You humans are all the damn same. All pets to the Citadel Council. Go to hell. Have fun with the paperwork though. And this."

Soon after the comm line was severed, and Skillian's ship powered up and fired their weaponry. They launched several missle pods, all on trajectory for _Gladius's _position.

"HOCUS! Evasive manuvers!" He barked loud and clear.

"Aye, sir!" She responded, heading to her station and yelling through the comm down at engineering. "Adams; pump her up! Reggie, move our asses!"

The pilot quickly fired up the thrusters and sped the opposite direction, twirling the ship magnificently and dodging two oncoming missles. The rest however were just too close to dodge, and the inevitable explosion filled their ears a few seconds later, when the rest connected with the hull.

The bridge of _Gladius_ shook hard and violent as the missle pods fired from the hostile alien ship they encountered a few minutes ago hit their ship, nearly sweeping X.O. Commander Steven Hackett off his feet to the floor. The ships power lights flickered on and off, but recovered after a few seconds. A mix of yelling, status updates on the various command stations and the violent threats Hackett was recieving through the comm system from the rival ships Captain, "Skillian", filled his ears, before he had to yell to gain attention; something he didn't often do with his calm and patient personality.

Quickly heading over to the weapons officer and his station, Thomas Jones, Hackett yelled in succession: "Whats the damage! What they hit us with?"

"Unsure, sir." Jones stated. "Wait... scanners... Looks like outdated Vintrox IV missle pods. Most hit aft, but the shields held. Down to 87."

"Hard hitting missles... but not hard enough. Charge up the-"

"Sir!" Reggie called from his seat.

"What is it?"

"They're retreating."

Hackett moved next to Waters and stared out the front viewport.

"Look, they're backing off."

"Cowards."

Hackett and _Gladius_'s crew watched as Captain Skillian soon charged up his FTL engine and sped away. For what looked like an outdated, modified Ion-class transport ship, it was fast. An FTL engine drive in that thing probably pushed the power to the limits. And they managed to get a cheap shot in. Must feel pretty damn lucky.

"Should we pursue and engage, sir?" Jones asked eagerly, disapointed the fight was over quick and wanting to show Skillian's weapons officer what _he_ could fire at them.

Hackett shook his head. "Negative. We've got to aid the people down there." Turning to the comm officer: "Kellar, anyone replying on the A-Band?"

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. "No sir, just the looping signal, explosions, and sceaming. Don't think they'd have anyway to reach us. It's pretty much jammed. We'd have to get closer if we had any chance in picking some survivors up."

Hackett then turned to Reggie. "Fire her up and break us through atmo, Waters. Quick as you can. Head for their settlement. I'm heading out with Lieutenant Zabaleta Sargeant Quinn and his marines." Heading to the comm system; "Ernest! Get your men to finish suiting up and ready to drop out in _Champion_, we're heading out in ETA..."

He turned to Hocus, who replied right away. "It'll take us ten minutes. And sir... we're picking up two other ships down there... not any of ours."

"Looks like we've got more friends to meet."

The X.O. then made his way with a determined look down to the armory to suit and load up. He always got the job done, and he wouldn't let a couple of low-life slavers and murderers get away with anything if he could do something about it. There were humans... his people, being slaughtered down there. He wouldn't leave them to their senseless deaths.

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**Alliance Military Standard Time: 0910 hours. **

**Year: 2170. Location: Attican Traverse, Star System: Antaeus. Mindoir.**

**Status: Engaged in combat.**

**14 years prior to present time.**

Hearts throbbing; adrenaline pumping, trigger finger on the ready.

The heavily pursued and desperate collection of Mindoir's survivors looked like a moltey mix of feral, insane humans, dirty teenager kids and a couple of "through hell and back" war torn soldiers, as they held position with desperation and huge determination from the waves of Mercenarys throwing themselves at them: Krogans, Batarians; they even spotted a few Salarians working against them too. It worked a lot of confused and crazy thoughts on the head. Cyrus could speak.He, John and the rest of the group managed to make it to _Persephone_ easily enough; they even got in when the current skirmish was over and met an even more desperate, crazy looking group of survivors inside the battered, destroyed, bullet-ridden club. A couple of Xion militia and club patrons. Soon after, they were put on the defense once more, and all manners of energy bolts, bullets, grenades and scare tactics were used to try and kill them.

Cyrus didn't care, though. He just kept his finger on the trigger, firing wildly at anything or anyone coming through that door that wasn't human. So did his friends and the soldiers with him. And it worked for the most part. Soon, the bodies of the oppositions fallen began piling up near the entrance of the venue, but with every few, they lost one of theirs.

There were fewer of them then the enemy, that was for sure. Cyrus, John, Scarlett, Peter, Lee, Anabelle, and Roger... plus a few soldiers and two other club patrons. Cyrus only knew the leaders name, Corporal "Perez"; and their introduction wasn't exactly the greatest. A quick yell and status check before being ordered to go under cover and fire. The two others was a _Persephone_ stripper by the name of Stacey, and a patron by the name of Tyler. They weren't far off in the crazy, scared look department themselves. Looked like the two had an interrupted private showing or something.

A black armor-clad Salarian leading the group yelled something in his alien dialect, before throwing another of his vaporizing grenades into the club, also blinding the survivors as his group rushed in the club to end the skirmish once and for all.

They just needed to have the numbers. The club didn't sport much cover; the only solid safe places to hide behind was the bar, a couple of counters and over-turn tables and debris. Cyrus wondered why they hadn't just blown them all up from the sky. They had four ships. They could easily be destroyed from the air. But something was up. The aliens seemed... desperate. The tables were turning.

"**Don't** let them through! Give them all you got! **HOLD!** **HOLD!**" Corporal Perez, the highest ranking surviving Xion soldier barked with authority at his few comrades and the group of kids his duty swore him to protect. From the bit of wall he was hiding behind, he fired several energy bolts from his pulse rifle at the horde of Mercenaries, ducking back as return fire came his way, burning through the side of the wall. His friend, Mac, popped out and threw his last grenade and scored a lucky hit on one of the Batarians attempting to flank them. "EAT THAT, ASSHOLE!" He yelled in rage, laughing crazily after the alien opposition was caught in flame and burned to death. Cyrus himself was firing wildly with the two Rosetto Mark IV pistols from his bit of cover, hitting hard the roaring Krogan advancing at him and Peter, but eventually breaking through his shield and sending Mr. Ugly back to cover to regenerate his shielding.

Another few Batarians fired succession shots at the soldier named Private Dean, who was holding the side entrance. Too busy taking care of the enemy on his side, did he not notice the Batarians flank his side. He screamed in agony as their energy bolts broke through his armours shields and burned flesh; screaming and cursing, he fired wildly back, scoring no hits and being taken down from the side entrance group of aliens. Private Rozel screamed in anger for his fallen friend, and moved on forward suicidally with his shotgun on full power. Taking down a Salarian hard and forcing the limp body back to the wall with the bullets sheer force and power, he was soon blasted to bits effortlessly by the oncoming group taking revenge.

Scarlett and Private Lane, nearby and watching helplessly as their two friends were killed, fired desperately at the flanking Batarians. One was agile enough to dodge the shots and make it to the next bit of cover; the other's shield malfunctioned as he was shot, breaking early. Pressing his armors sides desperately as he ran, John used this moment to his advantage, coming out, aiming with his Reaper Sniper Rifle. Holding his breath and making a perfect aim at the alien's now unprotected head, he charged his shot and fired. The Batarian went down, the high caliber bullet passing through one of it's eyes, the thick cranium and brain, and made green blood and gore go everywhere. It's partner yelled in anger for his fallen friend, but was put down by a roaring Roger, who used his newly aquirred rifle to his advantage.

Perez signalled to John for another few shots, and thank you gesture. John complied, steadying his rifle and firing another hot round of death into another Merc, taking him out.

There were still plenty more of course. Walls exploding; projectiles everywhere; the mercs/slavers were beginning to overrun the venue. A crazy, desperate clash of bolts, bullets, explosives and melee erupted in the club. It was like a scene from hell.

"From the top! From the TOP!" Private Harris screamed, and fired at the flanking Salarian's coming down from the partially collapsed upper stairway. Him, along with Lee and Tyler, managed to hold off a wave of the better equipped aliens, though just. They had no cover and a constant stream off fire held them back.

The Krogan whom Cyrus pushed back earlier, a.k.a. Mr. Ugly, came back at him again; surprisingly faster then he originally thought, and more durable. There was nothing more scarier then one of those things running at you, full pelt, blood red eyes looking ready to tear you limb from limb. What was it with these things and trying to kill him?!

Remembering the Krogan on the street a few hours ago, he came to the conclusion it was his smell. He seriously needed to consider getting a new cologne or something.

Peter and Cyrus desperately fired their weapons at Ugly, who seemed unfazed by bolts. It was as if his shielding was increased tenfold, as Cyrus fustratingly continued to fire at it until his pistols were both overheated. By that time he was well and truely screwed. The monster was already up in their face, giving a roar and throwing their pathetic excuse for cover aside. Slamming his rifle hard into Peter's face, he sent him flying backwards. Peter managed to recover quick enough to get up and run, whilst Cyrus was caught on the floor by the Krogan's reptillian foot, crushing CJ's leg and making him yell in pain. The Krogan chuckled, assuming he had already won this battle. Perez saw Cyrus go down and concentrated his fire towards the Krogan, who in turn roared and fired back, his shielding finally going down. CJ, sick of losing and being Mr. Weak, saw the opportunity, raised his pistol and overcharged it with hot energy. Dangerous yes, as the cooldown would take five minutes at least; but enough to take this monster out.

"Hey, Ugly. Look here!" He yelled from the ground. The Krogan turned in response, but even he couldn't take the change. CJ unleashed it at the Krogan's exposed face, making it yell in agony before being taken down by a barrage of other bullets and bolts. Cyrus grinned in triumph, though in great pain, and attempted to crawl away from his exposed position as he saw more oncoming threats.

It was then, John came running to Cyrus, sweaty, but still no hint of fear. He grabbed Cyrus roughly and firmly by the arm and pulled them from their position, running crazily through all sorts of energy bolts and projectiles, and making it behind the bar with the majority of the survivors. Before Cyrus could pull him off and yell at him, he saw his old position was in flames a few seconds later, bits of roof collapsing to the floor. Thank god Shepard was here.

After a few more seconds of crazed battle... everything went... quiet.

"Wait... WAIT! Hold your fire! Harry! Mac! MAC!" Corporal Perez yelled with authority and a hoarse voice, grabbing Mac's arm firmly and stopping him from firing his pulse rifle. The man swore loud and vulgar at his superior, but Perez ignored him. His other comrade, Harris, gave a small nod, before curiously and quietly inspecting the side entrance and the front. The rest of the survivors began popping out curiously themselves, seeing no attackers nor projectiles being fired at them anymore. All the remaining Mercs just seemed to... retreat. It was unbelievable. And also sent chills down most of their spines.

"Where... where the hell are they?" Lee asked, hesitantly popping his head out of cover to get a look.

Anabelle replied, just as surprised as he was. "They... retreated?"

"Course they did." Roger said proudly. He stood up by the bar, but John pulled him back in slowly. "Man, we don't know it's clear yet. Keep your head on."

Roger just grunted at him, but understood. The soldiers moved cover to cover, checked and re-checked every entrance and way to get in for hostiles.

A few minutes later Corporal Perez finally came out of cover confidently, securing his energy pack for his rifle as he began laying out the new orders. He wasn't exactly the tip of the iceberg, but he was all they had. He'd been training as a grunt for several years before being assigned to the Xion outpost all the way out here. A fairly musclar and tall man, standing at 5'10. His calm demeanor, tactical and physical prowress and likable personality to everyone is what set him apart from most of his peers. He was much nicer and smarter then the regular grunt, so he got promoted to Corporal.

Despite his calm personality, Perez had always been the type of guy who craved action; yet had a level head on, and always put his team-mates safety first. At first he wasn't thrilled being posted at Mindoir all those years back, wanting more head on action on the frontier. But after tonight... well, he was very put off.

He hated being the highest ranking soldier here. Most of the one hundred-odd MP's, soldiers and militia before the attack were either in the Xion Security HQ or patrolling the town. Nearly all the high-ranking officers were killed in the initial bombardment, which left Perez's superior, Lt. Ferron, as the Xion survivors ranking officer. His superior had been in his share of fights, and was old but experienced... but leading a rag-tag group of soldiers against these ruthless slavers pushed him to the limits. Now Perez he knew how Ferron felt before...

He shook his ex-superior's face from his head. The way he looked at Perez as he died made him feel guilty and upset. He should have died from the strafing. Not him.

Sighing and finally speaking: "Alright folks... All clear. I need you all up and functioning. Please. Grunts, scavenge anything and everything from the fallen that can be used. Our position is compromised, and there is no way we will hold out in here successfully any longer." He said that matter of factly, and he didn't need to anyways, what with the walls and ceiling crumbling and little fires and dozens of bodies littering the room. Perez moved over to the bar and gave John a pat on the back, acknowledging his assistance before and even being impressed by the kid on using a rifle quite accurately.

"Where'd you learn to fire a rifle like that, son?" The Corporal asked curiously.

John showed no sign of modesty nor cockiness from the soldiers interest. "My parents, sir. Went to boot camp. Grew up military. On Earth."

"Well I'm sure glad you were taught. You helped out...?"

"John."

"John." Perez repeated, holding out his hand for a shake, which he recieved. He gave a small grin. "Thank you."

Then turning to the rest of the sweaty, nervous, roughed up teenage kids and the two former club patrons around him; "And the rest of you as well. It's impressive you managed to all get here. I promise you I'll get you all out. Things will turn around from here on in."

The man named Tyler just rolled his eyes, always being the negative one. Lucky for him the man didn't notice.

Stacey, the stripper, spoke up. "Excuse me..."

"Yes?"

She still looked frightened to death, and unsure of speaking, but managed to spit it out anyways.

"Can you honestly guarrantee us by the end of this... even if we make it off Mindoir..." She looked into his war-torn eyes with a few tears streaming down.

"We'll still be alive?

Perez's smile faded, and he just didn't know what to say. She did raise a point though... and he no idea how any of them would ever forget this. Ever let this go and not haunt them to their deaths. He sighed. "I don't know, sweetheart. I just don't."

Turning the other way to face his soldiers;

"Harry, secure Dean, Mendez and Rozel's equipment. Whatever you can."

Private Harris returned a grim face and acknowledgement. "Yes, sir."

"Lane..." Perez's voice turned softer, less authority like, as he approached his comrade. Him and Lane had previously been in a deep relationship with her... but a few bad turns and everything went down the hill. Yet now, fighting side by side with her, he realized her life meant so much more to him. That he had been lying to himself when he convinced his mind that he was over her. His feelings just... exploded. And it took a massacre for him to put his ignorance in the bin.

Throwing away all the fights; all the bad memories aside, he grabbed Lane's hand affectionately, much to the surprise of her and those watching. He noticed she had several burns and wounds that hadn't been treated. He sighed, then looked her in the eyes.

"Sit back, sweetheart... you did good. Please continue to... Aaron, treat her wounds."

Private Aaron nodded in acknowledgement, and grabbed the medkit.

Perez then kissed Lane's cheek, whom in turn was stunned and let out a soft instance of red on her cheeks. "Yes... sir." She didn't know what suddenly got into him, but she certainly knew she had been waiting for that for three years.

Though liking it, Perez regretted it slightly afterwards in his mind, as it would show weakness and no proffessional... ah, fuck it. Chain of command was different when there were only five grunts left. HQ could kiss his ass. If there was one still left standing.

He then turned to his second-in-command. "Mac, I need you too... MAC!" Perez yelled angrily at his friend whom was kicking at the bodies of some of the enemies fallen.

"What?" Mac said, firing into the head of a heavily wounded, barely living Batarian. The alien let off a mercy scream before being plucked away from life.

Perez was angry. "DON'T shoot their wounded! They have information!"

"They'll give us BULLSHIT, C! Just for-"

Perez cut him off. "You heard my orders."

"Yes, Corporal TIGHTPANTS!" He gave a mocking salute and tone.

Perez shook his head. "Shut up. Now, go check out the back, find us a secure route, so we can haul ass."

"To where?" his friend snarled back, unusually more hostile, though he did bring up a point.

He threw his spare side-arm at him. Mac caught it, awaiting an answer, not breaking eye contact.

"...anywhere." Turning to the rest and speaking more casually; "The Alliance will come, everyone." He paused, looking at each of the different expressions on the survivors eyes. "I promise. So go, Mac."

Mac kicked open the side-door, peeping out into the hallway for any hostiles but giving the all-clear. "Yo, one of you kids come with me. I'll need an extra set of eyes watching my six."

The teenagers looked back and forth at each other and Mac. John was about to open his mouth, but Cyrus beat him too it.

"I'll go." He gave a look at John, telling him he could handle it, before heading over to Mac in the side hallway while Perez gave everyone else something to do. Cyrus felt so useless up to this point. He wanted to assist. Wanted to stop freezing up and letting John and the others save him. Be a man.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Heading down the dark hallway with the occasional weak flicker of the once existing neon blue lights of the club, Mac and Cyrus made their way door to door, cover to cover carefully. To Cyrus, the soldier he was accompaning was probably the most irrational and cocky; he saw him back in the fight, popping out of corners, rushing through cover and gunning down everything thrown at him. His stupidness yet efficient way of fighting had yet to be proven wrong by the baddies, however. Though Cyrus did share the same clogged up emotions and desires to just shoot every damn one of these invading aliens to bits. No mercy. Mac, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to see if CJ was still there, eventually spoke up.

"How'd you and the other kids escape them?" Mac's tone was more calm and different then previously heard.

Cyrus met eye contact with him. "We came from the mines. You know, in Irane. We stayed later then we should have. They attacked when we got back."

Mac was silent for a moment, opening a half-open door in the middle of the hall and clearing the room, before continuing.

"You and your friends must be damn good... lucky, or both to have made it this far. Thats on the other side of town from here."

"Yeah, it was luck." Cyrus said dryly. "And you?"

Mac froze, meeting stares again. He seemed touchy about the subject. "I was... well..."

He didn't finish his sentence for at least a minute, which left CJ confused and left hanging. "Well?" He asked.

Mac stopped again, looking angry and making CJ even more confused.

"I was... I was out drinking. There. Might as well say it." He turned away in shame. "I was still on fuckin' duty... but thought I'd be an **idiot** for a few minutes. Flirt with a couple of the bars girls. Then... they hit."

Cyrus just looked at him, not knowing how to react. Shun him for his stupidity?

Mac continued, his tone continuing to change. "I just... how do you think I feel! I survived because of pure dumb luck, and stupidity... I feel so stupid. I'm a fuckin idiot."

Cyrus sighed. "It's not anyones fault, Mac... just... forget it. Let's concentrate on what we have to do. We need you, man."

Mac didn't say anything after that. Just continued heading down the hall.

There were no signs of any mercs, but they had to be careful. Finally reaching the fire exit, Mac counted to three before kicking it open, heading out with Cyrus close behind.

To their surprise was a Red-armored Batarian kneeling underneath the stairway they were coming out, setting up what looked like a bomb. Alerted by the noise, he grabbed his side-arm and fired wildly, Mac cursing a string of f-words and rolling down the stairs. Cyrus, yelling, climbed up the railings and jumped down, landing on top of the Batarian, hard. The alien tried to fire but his shots went wild. Cyrus punched it's face hard, swearing and bringing the pain. One of the aliens two eyes set on the side of his face in bony protuberances was sticking out to him, and CJ saw this as an opportunity. He whacked the eye, sending the alien into shock and making it struggle even more. Cyrus aimed his pistol- albeit with difficulty, and fired. Eye exploding and blood going everywhere, the creature screamed.

"LIKE THAT, MOTHERFUCKER?!" CJ screamed, bashing him in his remaining eyes before Mac ran up, pointing a gun to his head. With that, the alien's eyes shifted from Cyrus to Mac, to his gun, and finally Cyrus again.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Batarian?" Mac ordered, pistol-whipping him hard on the side of the face. Cyrus grabbed the device he was setting up close next to them. It looked human in design, and was definitely a bomb. The timer and wires testified to that. Cyrus disabled it easily, then turned back to the alien, whom was coughing blood and looking very frightened.

"I... I..."

"Yeah yeah, you were planting a fucking bomb!" Cyrus waved his device in front of him. "Anyone else setting them up, slime-ball?!" Cyrus demanded.

His answer came through a second later as their neural implants translated. "Nooo... noo more... I'm all..."

Mac spat. "Better be. Or we're gonna spend a lot more time with you." He smirked, letting Cyrus continue to do the talking/interrogating.

"Where are the rest of our people?"

"Either... either... dead... being... tortured here..." he said that last bit with slight satisfaction. "...or being rounded up into the... the two... ships... _Alessa_... an..." he let out an unusual sound from his mouth."...and _Deathbringer_. Your... your damn group is one of the few... few left..."

Mac snorted, slightly amused. "Nice fucking names for ships."

With that CJ suddenly noticed in the skies above them, one of the two slaver ships which landed earlier was accelerating into the sky. This made him worried.

Cyrus grabbed the lanky alien by it's neck, pointing up. "Where are they GOING? Why are they going?"

The Batarian coughed, showing signs of passing out, though a slight change of tone in it's voice. "We're... you all... if... resistance held... your perky Alliance patrols... and if... if that fails... bomb from the skies." His weak expression slowly shifted to a slight smirk. "You're... you're dead anyways, meatbag... so whats the point?"

Cyrus held his stare into the aliens three eyes for a moment before raising his Rosetto. "Fuck you."

He aimed, then pulled the trigger. Green blood and gore spread all over the dirt ground. Mac complained in disgust, shaking his hands covered with it. "Disgusting."

Cyrus stood up and began walking up the stairs. Mac didn't say anything for a moment, sighing and coming back to his usual senses. He was about to call out to CJ, but his neural implants went off when Harris called through the comm. Cyrus stopped.

"Mac, the back of _Persephone_ secure?"

"You scared me for a sec, man! Yeah, well, it is now. One bogie. K.I.A. now. We got some info from it man, I think you should-"

"Tell me in here. We've got some hope yet. The A-Band man. There's Alliance down here!"

Mac's face lightened up, and he looked at CJ who also had gained a smile.

"Alright, hold up man, we'll be right there."

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The holo-image of a tall, serious looking man in standard Alliance military Onyx armor looked back at Corporal Perez and his colorful cast of comrades and survivors under his command. Mac and Cyrus entered mid-way through their conversation.

The man spoke with authority, with a deep, penetrating voice. "...me and my ground team are currently entering the area from the west, near the debris of your Xion outpost. We have three active, fully armored and loaded ATV's with enough space to fit your people in, and safely secure them back to our dropships at the edge of your town. My X.O's ship, _Gladius_, is currently engaging that other ship you mentioned retreating. We'll catch these bastards son, don't you worry."

Perez couldn't help but smile. "That'd be good, sir.

"Whats your status? Can your people move?"

Perez nodded. "There are five of us as well as nine civilians. All of us have minor wounds but we should be able to move to your location... though, sir... it would be safer if you could pick us up here."  
For a moment there was silence, then suddenly the holo-image and audio turned to heavy gunfire, yelling and screaming. The man returned to viewscreen, looking grim. "Negative, Corporal! We're currently engaging the enemy. Be advised- FIRE, MICHAEL! Be advised, several defenses set up, plenty of resistance! You'll have to make way on your own, but we will take over from there. I'm sorry, Perez."

With that the transmission ceased, catching faint traces of gunfire and yelling. Perez turned to the group, sighing.

"Well... you heard the Lt. There's no way he can pick us up. Pick-up is a k and a bit. Not too far." He pat Harry's shoulder, who smiled faintly and began passing out some of Dean's and Rozen's weapons to the teenage boys. Cyrus gained himself a Scorpion V shotgun and Lee the Lancer Assault Rifle that Dean once carried. It felt weird to wield a dead mans weapon. Especially if you spoke to him moments before his death.

Mac looked hesitant, and annoyed as usual. "How do you know it's not a trap?"

"They replied on the Alliance freq. It's Lieutenant Ernesto Zabaleta."

Tyler, being mostly quiet previously, burst out now. "It's basically a trap! You heard him! How are we going to run through the streets past their forces?! They probably retreated here to take those Alliance guys on, and they'll just pick us off later!"

Anabelle glared. "Suppose you got a better idea?"

"I say we lay low here, re-fortify the club until help arrives."

Mac, Lee and Aaron protested; John put a hand on Roger to stop him from showing his thoughts _physically_ to Tyler. Cyrus was about to yell himself, but the Corporal got the last word in.

"**QUIET!**" He yelled with authority, putting his hands up to prevent further fighting. Turning to Tyler and speaking calmly; "Look, I appreciate your input, but if we stay here it's a death trap. There's not enough cover left and no where to retreat. We'll be boxed in on all sides. We need to make it to pick up point. If thats too hot, we'll find another place to fortify."

The room was silent. They didn't have any other plan to protest with. He was right, though.

"Alright! Now that thats settled... Let's move! Quicker we get there, the faster we can treat these wounds and evac. Mac, you're on point. Aaron... accompany him."

Mac nodded, grinning, and headed out the front door. Aaron packed up his medkit and finished injecting the bio-foam into a tough Private Lane, who winced very little from the pain. He followed Mac soon after.

"Harris... I need you at our six... and..." He turned to the boys, eying John, Cyrus, Roger, Peter, Tyler and Lee. Though seemingly nervous, they did wish to help out Perez. He barely had any men left, so they had to fill in for Rozen, Dead, Mendez and Ferro. Even Anabelle wanted a piece of action. Just because she was a woman doesn't mean she wasn't as tough or resilient as any of them. In fact, she damn near was.

Perez patted Roger's shoulder. "You're a good aim with that rifle. Mind keepin' 'em at bay?"

Roger grinned. "Oh yeah. Hey, Pete, come with me man."

"Alright... if its..."

"Yeah. I'll need another with Harry." Perez answered quickly. Peter nodded.

He turned to Lee and Tyler. "Take care of your lady friends here..." he turned to Scarlett, Anabelle, and Stacey. Noticing Anabelle's glare and the other two's vivid looks, Perez just grinned to himself. "...and you ladies take care of the boys, too."

Anabelle smiled, satisfied. "Damn right, Corporal. They'll need a lady to do a mans job."

Lee remained quiet, still not in the joking mood he usually was, though happy they were heading for Alliance. Tyler muttered something but Stacey nudged him- hard.

Ending his stare with Cyrus and John;

"You two stay in the middle, make sure our sides don't get flanked. There's bound to be plenty out there waiting for us."

CJ nodded. John silently acknowledged.

Perez grinned. Perhaps they'd get out of this after all. And gain a couple of potential new recruits. He straightened up and secured his pack and weapons, heading for the back entrance.

"Let's _**MOVE**_!"

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Blow him to bits, Smith!" X.O. Hackett roared with authority to the man in the gunner seat of their huge ATV, _Vipor_. The several cannons, machine turrets and lock-on systems were used effectively against the makeshift defenses the now identified Batarian and Krogan slavers set up to fight against them. The slavers were more well-equipped then they thought however; RPG's, laser turrets, high-tech infantry weaponry and armor; it looked like they had been preparing this for a while. _Vipor_, along with _Saber_ and _Xei-Zhang_, dropped out of the several drop-ships sent from _Gladius_, along with a strong hundred and so marines, equipped and ready to take these menaces out.

It was a full blown battle field. As the three ATV's blew the defenses with their superior weapons, slowly gaining ground along with the ground infantry accompanying them, _Gladius_ was engaged with another of the slavers ships, _"Alessa"_. In addition, Lieutenant Ernesto Zabaleta had made contact with a group of survivors on the other side of the town. From what he saw before ducking back into _Vipor_, the town had been hit hard and brutally. Time for payback.

X.O. Steven Hackett had been involved in his fair share of ground ops in his time with the military. All sorts of battles with Krogan Pirates, Salarian hackers, Asari Biotic terroists and even his own brethren looking for the dark life in the huge universe which they could now explore openly. But what he, Lieutenant Ernesto Zabaleta, Sargent Quinn, and the rest of his marines saw today, the atrocities... the death... the torture...

He would never forget.


End file.
